Chapter One: A Decision Can Change A Life


-January 23rd, 2001- Mexico City
I watched silently as my mother practically glided across the kitchen, it was my younger brothers 5th birthday, and family from all around had come to our modest home, on the outskirts of Mexico City. My father had been born and raised in this very house, my grandfather had passed away a few years back, my grandmother still lived here, with us. I was a tender 15 year old, with aspirations beyond my time - or so everyone told me. I wanted to be a singer, I was determined and headstrong, a lot like my father, my mother would say. I always envied my mother, she was a petite, beautiful women, with soft autumn colored hair. She'd been raised in a wealthy family, and had seen much of the world, I, on the other hand, was a awkward 15 year old, with skinny legs and long arms, that didn't seem to fit my body, and hair, that despite my yearning for it to be straight was wavy, much like a angry ocean.
"Riyan Andrea, stop staring and help your mother" My father announced, a thick Spanish accent engulfing his voice
My bare feet patted across the floor, stopping in from of my mother.
"It's okay sweetheart, you go get ready" she smiled, rubbing the side of my face
I smiled quickly before disappearing upstairs.

Closing the door to my room behind me, I sighed softly. I could hear the idle chatter of relatives I barely even knew under my window, but it hindered me none the same. I sat down softly on the stool in front of the dressing table. Holding the ivory brush tightly between my hands I ran the brush through my hair.

Closing my eyes, I imagined been elsewhere, a stadium jam packed full of people, all of them smiling, all of them chanting my name, then opening my mouth, I began to sing. Softly at first, perhaps nervous of the crowd growing in my head, my voice picked up, blasting out a powerful rendition of a song my grandmother used to sing to me.

~ AT THE SAME TIME ~
Ricardo looked up to the window above him, stopping the conversation with his brother. He listened intently, as the noise around him grew ignored.
"Marco, is that you're daughter?" he questioned, turning to face his brother
"It's Riyan, she's always up there singing" he laughed boisterously
"Has she ever had lessons?"
"Just from her grandmother"
"She has a really amazing voice, maybe -"
"Uhuh" Marco interrupted, shaking his hand "I love my daughter Ricardo, but I know you're itching to prove out your experience living in New York, and she wont be your little trial"
"Come on brother, its not like that, I worked for the record company, I know what they look for, Riyan has what it takes"
Ricardo had spent most of his life in New York, like he'd said, working for a big record company there. He was ambitious and determined to make it in the corporate world, and he knew his niece had what it took to make it also.
"RIYAN, come down here" Ricardo called up at the window

~ AT THE SAME TIME ~
My eyes powered open when I heard my name, I stopped singing and pulled my hair back into a low ponytail. I hurried quickly down the stairs, one thing you never did was to leave someone waiting, especially not in my family.

"You called?" I questioned standing in the doorway between the kitchen and outside
"Come here Ri" my uncle smiled, his gestures echoing his words
My large brown eyes looked around the bustling crowd of relatives as I walked slowly to where my father and my uncle were sitting.
"I dicho ningún hermano, es mi decisión" Papa announced
"dejó a muchacha tener un futuro, con excepción de este" uncle replied, flinging his hands around his surroundings
"esto, hermano, es una buena vida, y la mejor para mi hija, no permitiré que ella consiga implicada con todo el malo del mundo, ella soy mi hija, que es él " Papa sternly denounced
I'm not sure if they were speaking Spanish just to show the anger between them, or perhaps Papa had forgotten, he'd taught me how to speak it.
"Papa, usted me enseñó Español" I laughed, which roughly translated 'Papa, you taught me to speak Spanish'
They stopped the argument abruptly.

Despite the fact we lived in Mexico City, most of the populated areas were full of American's, and so most people spoke English. I went to an English school, and most of my friends were American's, but Papa determined to announced his heritage proudly painstakingly taught us to speak Spanish, I wouldn't say I was fluent, but I was getting better.

"Ri, how would you like to be the next Britney Spears?" my uncle questioned, smiling from ear to ear
"I - ah" I started
"I said no Ricardo" Papa interrupted
"Why not? Would you like Riyan to never experience success"
"I don't want to experience heartache, bug shots up in New York would only use my daughter, and your niece"

I sighed, turning away. They would argue like this back and forth, saying the same thing over in over in as many languages as they could.

"Papa, Ricardo, stop, please" My mother announced coming out of the door in front of me
She stood there waiting for their attention as she wiped her hands on a cloth hand towel. She always had a way of demanding attention, today was no exception.

"You bicker like little children, that you don't see the truth here" she scolded "I know Riyan has a beautiful voice, Papa I'm sure you know that too, and I think you should allow Riyan to decide for herself what's best, this is after her life" she finished looking across at me
That was my mother, she was a strong independent women, and I suppose she always wanted me to be the same way.
"Riyan, I can offer you a chance to go to America, a record deal, a tour, you'll be famous" my uncle promised
"Riyan, this is no certainty, they could not want you, turn you away, I don't want you to deal with that possible rejection" Papa sighed, his forehead furrowing tightly
"I - I" I sighed, I turned to my father, looking down as he sat in the chair "Papa, you've always taught me that nothing is just given to you, that you have to work for it, but how can I work for something, I'm too scared to try" I smiled as I turned to my uncle "I want to give it a try uncle" I announced, unsure of my own words, but trying to sound as though I was.

Chapter Two
Contents

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